Rumi's Field (None So Blind Book 2)

by Timothy Scott Bennett

  Zacharael watched the departing Sages for a moment, then blinked back to Earth. He had more symbols to create on the planet's surface. He now knew better where to place them. One would go very near the spot where the President and her husband had first met.

  ***

  Six weeks later…

  Danny and Gina pulled on their hats and gloves and jackets and made their way to the dining hall. Except for the fact that they were always cold, life in Third Colony was better than they'd expected. The food was plentiful and good, they had their own bathroom, and they'd both found good positions in the newly structured colonial society. The colony's heating system was undersized, given the outside temperatures on Three, but things would slowly get better as the atmosphere shifted and stabilized. Until then, there were extra layers of clothing.

  They hadn't seen or heard from Director Sinclair since the Giant Leap. That had not turned out to be a problem. Since Danny and Gina had been on the wok when it left, everybody just assumed they belonged, and the pair quickly made good use of their skills. Still, they wondered. Queries to their local representative indicated that Sinclair was not to be found anywhere in the colonies. The presumption was that he'd been one of those selected against by the Grid. His wife, apparently, could be found at the pub on any given night.

  Life on Third was not easy. Danny worked long hours in the security detail. Most of his attention went to maintaining the defense line against the planet's primary indigenous lifeform, a tenacious, lichen-like creature that had an uncanny knack for finding its way into the interiors of the various domes and Quonsets that the advance woks had dropped into place. While these lichens didn't seem to be toxic to humans, they stank horribly, and had a knack for eating through wires, pipes, and ductwork. Gina's back ached from sitting in her chair, programming the colony's secondary networks. The qputers were amazing, but she was having trouble getting the feel of them. They felt almost alive to her at times. She often stayed late, working on her console long after her shift ended. She was trying to establish a personal relationship with the colony's core qputer. She had a gut feeling that that might be a smart move.

  Neither of them thought much about Earth. They were too busy. And memories of Earth were discouraged. They were no longer Earthlings. They were something else. Something new. Thirdlings, perhaps. A new people. One day an entirely new species. They'd been given this one chance to grow and thrive and earn their place in the Cosmic Community, the Cogency. They looked to where they were going. They did not look back to from whence they'd come.

  Danny understood. There was survivor guilt there. Old, habitual disdain. And there was the remorse of what they'd had to do to make their break. They'd spent the Earth to fuel their Giant Leap, leaving behind a beat up planet they'd made even worse than it would otherwise have been. Though the nastiest offenders had been swept aside, the rest of them could feel their own complicity, even if they denied it out loud. The guilt would shape them in the years and decades and centuries to come. Perhaps that would be a good thing.

  Gina got into line and grabbed a tray. She handed a second tray to Danny. "Meatloaf," she said with a grin. Gina loved the meatloaf here. He reached out and grabbed her gloved hand in his own and squeezed. It wasn't too bad here. Not bad at all.

  ***

  Nine weeks later…

  Cole pulled Linda close to him in the warm, early-morning air and kissed her. In a moment she would get on the wok that hovered just behind her, there on the front lawn of the Home. That was one benefit of living amongst the Middle Children: there were no more trips to the airport. Two of their strange new comrades stood waiting on either side of the door, watching them openly as they kissed. Cole winked at them and kissed her a second time.

  "I'll only be gone a week, sweetie," said Linda.

  "A week here and a week there and pretty soon it adds up to a lifetime," he said.

  Linda frowned, pulling back. "You know I have to go," she said.

  Cole sighed. "Yeah. I know. I'm sorry. I just... I miss you already."

  "We need to get some of that HereNow gear The Families left behind and install a unit in the house," said Linda.

  "Still wouldn't be the same," said Cole, running a finger along Linda's face.

  Linda inhaled deeply. "I know," she admitted. "But Pastor Clinton's bashing me constantly on the religion issue, dear. I gotta get the debate back onto the issues. Restarting the Global Environmental Summit, face-to-face this time, might just do that. Especially with those new methane bursts in Siberia last week. People are demanding strong leadership."

  "And you're just the one to give it," said Cole. He pulled Linda to him. She laid her head on his chest.

  "I'm the one who'll at least talk about it in realistic terms," she said.

  "Terms which Clinton will just latch onto and use against you," said Cole into Linda's hair.

  Linda sighed. Cole sighed as well.

  "So you'll be at the Hilton again?" asked Cole.

  Linda shook her head. "Bluebird's found me a wonderful apartment right in London," she said. "'Luxurious, and completely secure,' he said. You know I love London."

  "Hooking us up with Mr. Bluebird was one good thing Stan did, I guess," said Cole.

  Linda pulled back and looked at him. "Stan was a good man, sweetie. He took really good care of us."

  Cole sighed and nodded. "You heard from him at all?"

  "I don't expect we will," said Linda. "He's disappeared. I just hope he's found a quiet place to live out his life."

  "You don't sound very angry at him," said Cole.

  Linda shook her head. "He was just doing his best, Cole," she said. "I can't fault him for that. I could have kept the vial way more secret than I did. But I didn't. And Stan acted from his heart. I know he did." She raised her shoulders. "So now we've got new circumstances to deal with. We'll keep slugging it out. And who knows? Maybe it's better this way?"

  Cole frowned. "You know I was gonna..." He stopped. All of a sudden he seemed nervous and unsure. His face went dark.

  "What?" said Linda.

  Cole inhaled sharply, then looked down at the ground. "Nothing," he said.

  Linda glanced at her watch. "Okay, sweetie," she said. "I gots to get goin’, ya knowin'?"

  Cole nodded. "Yeah."

  "I'll call you when we get to Bluebird's secret Presidential suite. The girls should be up by then."

  "Okay." Cole leaned forward and kissed Linda again. "I love you," he said.

  Linda smiled. "That do make it nice," she said. She turned and nodded to her pilots, then gave Cole one last hug. Releasing him, she stepped onto the short walkway that angled up to the wok. She turned and performed a parody of a Presidential wave and salute, as though saying goodbye to a cheering crowd. She grinned. It was only her, Cole, two Secret Service agents, and the two Middle Children. "I'll be back before you know it," she called down to Cole. Then she turned and ducked into the wok. The pilots followed. In mere moments, the walkway retracted back into the wok and the door melted closed.

  The wok rose slowly into the air. It leaned forward at an angle, began to glow, and shot off in a flash of bright white light. Linda was off to save the world and get herself re-elected. Cole would stay with the kids and keep their life as stable and normal as he could. Such was their life together.

  Cole glanced at the sky. It was going to be another hot one. Really hot. He turned and walked back into the Presidential Home.

  ***

  Only a moment later…

  “Okay,” said Carl. “One… two… three!” The two of them opened their eyes.

  “Oh, my,” said Carl at last.

  “You have got to be shittin’ me,” said Ted.

  Postscript

  Here ends Book Two of the None So Blind series. Book Three, Imbolc, like the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, will arrive in its own good time.

  About the Author

  Timothy Scott Bennett was born in Michigan in 1958, the same year the U.S.
launched the Explorer 1 satellite and the Great Chinese Famine began. Always the polymath, he has studied astrophysics, theology, anthropology, and philosophy; painted watercolors and installed broken tile mosaics; founded and lived in intentional communities; raised children; restored houses; performed stage combat and local theater; learned a bit of Russian, and played in a rock band. He's a dogged questioner of cultures, paradigms, beliefs, and assumptions, and seeks to balance paradox and uncertainty whenever he can. In 2003 he met his second wife, Sally, who was able to fully see who he was. Thus empowered, he wrote, directed, and edited the feature-length "cult classic" documentary, What a Way to Go: Life at the End of Empire. He followed that up with the science-fiction adventure novel All of the Above, and the sequel, Rumi's Field. He lives in North Carolina, where squirrels stare at him through the windows and jabber their unsolicited advice. He 's working on a non-fiction account of his relationship with Sally tentatively titled Asperger's in Love: A Relationship Across the Spectrum. He walks the unraveling human world while reaching for the stars, pondering the eternal questions, and wondering whether the squirrels can be trusted.

  Connect with Timothy Scott Bennett

  The best place to find me is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tswabbit

  Sometimes you'll find me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/TimothySBennett

  Sometimes I post blogs at Everything is Research: http://everythingisresearch.com/

  And I have a new website coming soon where I'll focus on my writing: timothyscottbennett.com

  A Brief Excerpt from Imbolc, the Third and Final Book of the None So Blind Series

  Chapter 1 - The Year 29, 2049 in the Old Calendar - Probably February

  1.1

  Rabbit took off up the slope. Coinin followed, trying not to slip on the dewy grass. The sky went black for a moment and Coinin almost lost Rabbit as his guide hopped behind a huge, feathery sarsen. The frosted stone face loomed over him in the darkness, glowing in the faint light of the stars. Coinin put his hand out to touch its cold surface. And to steady himself. Rabbit was standing, waiting, just beyond the boulder.

  "You coming?"

  Coinin nodded, brushing the long, white hair from his face. "You said you had something to show me."

  Rabbit laughed and started again up the slope. Coinin willed the sun to rise, then followed once more.

  They came to the hill's rocky shoulder and stopped. Below them the land fell away. The sharp, grassy slope they'd just climbed poured into a ripple of low ridges. Beyond the ridges was the wide plain that stretched down to the lake. To the East, the sun rose over the woods, limning the mountains that loomed up from behind them. To the West, a darker forest, still and thick, stretched out for as far as Coinin could see. He turned back to peer upslope, to the North, matching Rabbit's gaze. The hill rose in a series of steps, growing more rocky toward the peak. At the summit stood an impossibly tall stone tower, striped with black and white granite. As they watched, a huge eagle, just a speck against the blue sky, leapt from the peak of the tower's conical slate roof and swept down the hillside toward them. In a moment it was perched on a nearby rock. It cocked its head and caught Coinin and Rabbit in the light of its yellow eye.

  "Hey, Eagle," said Coinin, raising his hand in greeting.

  "I know you," answered Eagle.

  "We need to see," said Rabbit.

  Eagle shook her shoulders, fluffing the feathers of her neck. She nodded. "I will take you."

  Without hesitation, Rabbit jumped onto Eagle's back and dug his claws into her feathers. Coinin, more clumsily, stepped onto Eagle's wing and pulled himself up like a rodeo clown, slipping and grunting and flailing about before finally remembering where he was. Laughing at himself, he rose into the air and settled himself gently on Eagle's back behind his friend. Rabbit snorted but held his tongue.

  Eagle leapt into the air and flapped her great wings. Three times they circled as they gained the summit. The tower's polished blocks flickered in the morning sunlight like mirrored tiles. Still they climbed, until they were far above the hill, halfway up the tower's tremendous height. The morning air ruffled hair and fur and feather. The sun filled them with light. Rabbit shivered in cold excitement.

  "You ready?" he called back.

  "For what?" asked Coinin.

  "For this!" said Rabbit with a laugh. He raised his hind end and struck out with his powerful rear legs, catching Coinin off guard. The old man fell backwards with a yelp, his arms windmilling for a hold they never found. He plummeted Earthward and Rabbit laughed all the louder. "Thank you, Eagle," Rabbit called out as he dove from the bird's back to go after the old man. Eagle veered away and soared off toward the Eastern wood.

  Rabbit sped through the air, gaining on the old man. "Coinin, you idiot!" he shouted. "Use your brain!" But Coinin appeared not to hear, and fell like a corpse.

  With a sigh, Rabbit put himself underneath Coinin and broke his fall in mid-air. The old man was heavy, so Rabbit grew large enough to hold him in his paw. "Coinin?"

  Coinin lay slack and silent in Rabbit's paw. Rabbit drifted slowly downward toward the tower's base. "Coinin?" Still there was no response. Worried, Rabbit touched down gently on the rocky hilltop near the tower's massive foundation. Lifting his paw to his face, he sniffed his friend's body.

  "Coinin?"

  The body started to jerk and wiggle and Rabbit realized with annoyance that the old man was laughing. He tossed Coinin to the ground in disgust and shrank back to his regular size. "You shit," he said.

  Coinin jumped to his feet and brushed the dirt from his robe. "Me?" He danced around the rabbit, rubbing his hands together. "You started it!"

  Rabbit crossed his arms. "That was uncalled for."

  "And pushing me off Eagle's back wasn't?"

  Rabbit rolled his eyes, as if tired of explaining. "Remember where you are, Coinin. Everything has meaning here."

  "And what meaning is there, oh wise bunny-wunny, in tossing me off the back of a bird?"

  "One thing," said Rabbit, holding up a finger. His moist brown eyes glinted in the sun. "Get used to the unexpected."

  "Ooh!" mocked Coinin, dropping to his knees in false adulation. "The Unexpected! I'm so scared!"

  Rabbit hopped away from Coinin, stopping at the rusted iron door at the tower's base. "Like I said, Coinin," he said, looking over his shoulder. "You're a shit." Rabbit pulled open the door, entered the tower, and disappeared up the stone stairs.

  Coinin stood and scratched his old, veined nose for a bit. He'd seen Rabbit mad before, many times. But this was different. It wasn't even anger, really, so much has sadness. Or disappointment. As if Coinin's shortcomings had finally become more than Rabbit was willing to tolerate. Coinin had screwed up in the past, and Rabbit had always forgiven him. He'd had to, didn't he? He'd had no choice. But now Coinin wondered. His bonds here were tenuous, even after twenty-some very odd years. How would he survive if the gates were closed and locked now? How would they all survive? Resolving to apologize for his behavior, Coinin ducked through the doorway and started to scale the Endless Climb.

  "Took you long enough," said Rabbit, staring out over the Northern plateau. The hill on which the tower stood hugged up against a massive cliff wall, base to base, and the view from the tower's top allowed a glimpse over the cliff's sharp edge to the lands beyond. Flat and dry and dusty, without a tree in sight, the Northern Plateau looked like the end of the Earth itself. Coinin had never been this close to it before. He had never been allowed to climb to the tower's highest floor.

  "It's a long climb," huffed Coinin, bent over to catch his breath. He felt a bit silly, stating the obvious as he had, yet the moment felt tender and he was afraid of making a misstep.

  "What is gravity here?" muttered Rabbit. "Why do you insist on wearing your physical limitations like a heavy cloak? You can be anything."

  Coinin stepped forward to the balcony's edge and tried to find what Rabbit was staring at. "I know," he said at last, grabbing the ir
on railing with both hands. "It's a choice I make sometimes. To remind me of who I am."

  Rabbit nodded but did not speak. Coinin wondered if his friend was finally beginning to understand. He hoped so.

  "I'm sorry, Rabbit. For what I said. I should not have mocked you."

  Rabbit gazed out over the plateau, giving no sign that he had heard Coinin's words. "She's coming," he muttered. In the far distance a drumbeat sounded, just above the edge of hearing.

  Coinin tried to follow the rabbit's line of sight. "Who's coming?"

  Rabbit turned to face the old man. A tear slipped from his eye, streaking the fur of his face. He shook his head. "I'm not allowed to say."

  "But... Rabbit... what is it? Tell me. Who's coming?"

  Rabbit looked down at the stone floor. "This is the end," he murmured.

  Coinin froze. "What are you talking about?"

  Rabbit turned and looked again to the North. The heavens had filled with thunderclouds. Lightning sliced the air like a rapier, leaving a gash in the fabric of the sky through which poured a river of ice. In a moment, the land about them was frozen dead. Rabbit looked at the old man. "There are not enough of you!" he whispered.

  The drumbeat quickened. Rabbit tore off down the steps. Coinin flew to keep up. Down the tower stairs, down the stepped hillside, over the ridges and into the dark Western forest, Rabbit ran and ran and ran. Coinin, compelled by the drum, followed as best he could, and finally let him go, calling out one last time as his friend disappeared into the trees. "Who's coming?" he said again, his voice failing with the realization that he would get no answer. Not even the echo replied. With a sigh, Coinin dove into a hollow stump he found at the edge of the woods, slipped up the tunnel, and returned to his bedroom.